And that was how it started
by Red Chucks
Summary: Another Boosh origins story. Vince. Howard. A Tuesday. Bovril sandwiches. And the misadventures of their young lives together.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, another story. I don't own the Boosh but they own me, well and truly. This was an idea I had a little while ago but gave up on as it didn't seem to be going anywhere. I'm trying again, hoping for better results second time round. **

**I'm fascinated by the backstory possibilities inherent in the Boosh plot inconsistencies (Wow that sounded more intelligent than it was meant to). And so this is another story about Vince and Howard's childhood. I'm not sure how it ends yet, which is a worry, but we'll see.**

**It all started when I re-watched Series One (again) and the banter about Vince being descended from a French Duke really jumped out at me. So here it is. **

**Ta-ra.**

* * *

_"That's my uncle, Howard. He's a French Duke!"_

...

Howard had first met Vince when the younger boy had been sent to spend the school holidays with his aunt in Leeds. Howard had been ten-years-old and it was a day that he knew he'd never forget.

He'd been eating his lunch. It was a Tuesday so his mother had made bovril sandwiches and he was sitting in his accustomed spot on the low front wall in front of his house. It was a good place to watch things. Things like the other children playing and not playing with him. It was only the second day of the holidays and he was already lonely and desperate for school to start again.

Howard liked school. He was good at it and liked everyone to know he was good at it. He could impress his teacher at school, and those kids that hung out in the library. But in the holidays there was just his obsessive-compulsive mother and the trumpet his father had left him, that Howard couldn't even play. Which was worse than nothing, in Howard's opinion.

Howard chewed slowly on his sandwich, staring off into the distance and letting his mind wander. He didn't quite understand why he didn't have friends. It'd be nice to have a friend.

"Whatcha eating, small eyes?"

Howard let out a shriek and fell off the wall. He looked up to see a small boy (was it a boy?) laughing so hard he was almost doubled over. Howard frowned. Was he being mocked by preschoolers now?

"What's that on your head?" he shot back, annoyed that the kid was laughing at him.

He didn't usually fight back when teased but this kid was tiny, surely he could retort without the chance of a beating. The kid looked confused for a moment before smiling and showing off a mouth of rather crowded teeth.

"It's my hair, ain't it. I dyed it black. My Auntie Lemon was well cross. It was her dye I used, so she packed me up and shipped me here. Leeds." He shuddered dramatically and then held out a hand to help Howard to his feet. Howard stared at it suspiciously. The kid'd scared him, made him fall and then laughed at him. All of that he was fairly familiar with, but it didn't usually end with the assailant helping him up. He took the smaller boy's hand all the same, waiting for the trick but all he got was another mega watt grin as the kid helped him back to his feet.

His sandwich seemed unharmed so he kept eating but noticed that the boy was still there and was staring at his lunch like a half-starved dog.

"Did you, um, that is, would you like a sandwich?"

"Really?" The kid's eyes were like bright blue saucers and Howard felt himself start to smile. Perhaps this kid wasn't so bad after all. He held a quarter of sandwich out and the little hands grabbed it quickly, as if scared that Howard might change his mind and he watched as the kid stuffed the whole thing in at once.

"Don't eat too fast," he chided. "You'll choke if you carry on like that."

"Yeah, thanks, dad," came the muffled reply and Howard rolled his eyes. He finished his own lunch and then studied the odd looking little person before him. The kid was small and a bit pointy. His black mop of hair really did look like some sort of bad wig that'd been put on sideways and the clothes looked like they'd come from a dress-ups box. He'd never seen a boy in a red silk shirt before and knew that if he, or any other boy at his school, tried it, it would look ridiculous. And yet, on this kid, it somehow looked right. It looked good.

"What's your name, anyway?"

Howard blinked. He'd drifted off a bit there, wondering what other clothes this kid might wear and what he thought of Howard's attire. He missed his school uniform and was dressed in rough jeans and a brown jumper, not very flashy but very durable. Was durable fashionable?

"Oi!" The kid waved his hand in front of Howard's face.

"I asked you a question. You gonna be polite? What's your name?"

"Howard. Howard TJ Moon."

He tried to say it in an impressive way, like an explorer might, or James Bond, even though he knew his name was nothing special. The kid, however, was staring with his mouth open, his eyes all big again and looking genuinely impressed. Howard shifted nervously.

"Is that really your name?"

"Um. Yes?"

"It's genius. Howard TJ Moon. It's a proper man's name, Howard. Like an adventurer."

"Thanks,"

Howard felt so proud he thought he might burst. This kid definitely wasn't so bad after all.

"I'm Vince, by the way," the kid told him. "Vince Noir, Rock'n'Roll Star. That's me."

He held out his hand and Howard shook it. For such a small boy he certainly had a firm handshake. And an enthusiastic one too.

"Are you really a rock and roll star?" Howard asked skeptically.

"Nah," the boy, Vince, shook his head. "It's just how my mum used to remember it. She had a terrible memory by the end but when she said 'Vince Noir Rock'n'Roll Star!' she always remembered who I was. She said I'd grow up to be a star so I figure I have to start practicing now."

Howard nodded. The kid was weird and was making very little sense but he seemed nice enough. And like he wouldn't actually try to beat Howard up or steal his money. Those were good traits to have in a friend, right?

"Is that what the clothes and hair are about, then?"

"What?"

"Rock star practice?"

"Oh. Um, s'pose so. I just like bright clothes, really. And accessories. Accessories are genius."

"Ok."

Howard knew he should say something to continue the conversation. If he just stood there, shuffling about like a nervous tit the kid might walk off. He might never see him again, and he really didn't want that. But he didn't really do conversation. He'd never had anyone to practice on. Maybe he could practice on Vince.

"So, you like Jazz?"

"No."

"Oh."

"D'you like Mick Jagger?"

"No."

"Oh."

Well, this was going well, Howard thought. He needed to ask the kid a question that wouldn't result in just the word 'No.'

"How old are you?"

For some reason Vince scowled. He tried to make himself taller but it just made his toes point inward more and he looked like a little pigeon.

"How old are you?" he challenged.

"I'm ten," Howard shrugged. He was tall for his age, most people thought he was at least twelve, but he didn't like to stand up too straight. It got him noticed in all the wrong ways.

"Oh," Vince said in a small voice before straightening again and giving another one of what Howard was coming to call the 'Vince Noir signature smile.'

"I'm ten too!"

"You are not!"

Howard was appalled. It was such a terrible lie. Sure the kid could talk well but he couldn't be more than seven.

"I am too ten," Vince countered. "I'm just short for my age. I hope you ain't being heightist?"

"I'm not heightist," Howard replied, wondering just what a heightist was. "I'm just saying that there is no way that you are ten years old. I'd say you're six, seven at the most. Six years, eight months, and three weeks if I had to be specific."

Howard had always liked numbers and the kid was obviously impressed but then he looked down at his little pigeon-toed feet and Howard felt a bit bad. Vince didn't look happy and he really wanted Vince to be happy.

"Wow," he heard the small boy whisper. "You're good."

He went to put his hand on Vince's shoulder but the boy shrugged him off.

"I'm ten," he said firmly, looking at Howard with so much fierceness that Howard felt himself nodding along.

"Ok," he said. "You're ten."

"Good." The firmness was suddenly gone from Vince's face, replaced once more by the cheeky grin and sparkling eyes and Howard started to wonder whether it was possible to fall in love when you were ten. With a boy. Who said he was ten but was probably six. Who you'd only just met.

Maybe, he thought, he should get Vince a present? Then Vince would like him and want to be his friend, wouldn't he? Did a quarter of bovril sandwich count as a present?

"Howard? Howard? Howard!"

Vince's sing-song voice broke him out of his musings.

"What? Sorry," Howard apologised nervously. Vince probably thought he was an idiot, now. Letting his mind wander off without him. He'd probably never like him now, bovril sandwich or not.

"I like you Howard. You're weird."

"What?"

That came out a bit louder than Howard meant it to. He was just surprised but he saw Vince flinch.

"Not bad weird," Vince consoled. "Weird like me. Weird is good. That's what me Uncle Brian says, anyway. He was my favourite."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Howard studied Vince's face and realised that the kid meant it. There wasn't a hint of malice in what he'd said. Vince thought that weird was good. Vince thought that Howard was weird.

And he liked Howard!

"Um..." He tried to think of something to say. Something that would cement the friendship, show that he liked Vince too.

"Would you like to come inside?" Did that make him sound like a crazy person?

"We have more bread and bovril. And marmite too, if you want. And jam. I could make more sandwiches?"

Howard scrunched his eyes shut, then opened one just a tiny bit and peeked through, wanting to see Vince's reaction, even if it wasn't a positive one. He'd never invited another kids around to the house before and it felt strange to ask Vince, since they'd only just met. He felt sure he'd say no.

"Really? You'd make me sandwiches?"

"Um. Yes?"

"Aw, I love you, Howard! My Auntie Lemon was well strict with the food and Auntie Sherbert says I have to wait 'til dinner 'cos my bus arrived too late for her to make me lunch."

"What? Really?"

"Yup."

"Your auntie sounds Weird... And not in a good way."

"She is a bit. She din't really want me coming but it was her turn. She's got ten cats and smells like rotten apples."

"Crazy Cat Lady's your auntie?"

"Yup."

"Wow."

The Crazy Cat Lady was three doors down, which meant that Howard and Vince were practically neighbours. Howard smiled. He'd be able to see Vince everyday if Vince decided they were friends. But he'd also seen the Crazy Cat Lady walking back from the grocer's with her stolen shopping trolley which she only ever filled with cans of Home Brand tomato soup. Vince was tiny already. He'd fade away like a chalk drawing in the rain if he lived off soup.

"I think we'll need to make you lots of sandwiches," he said gravely and Vince looked up at him with his pointy little face and nodded back just as seriously.

Howard held out his hand. He didn't know why, he knew that most ten year old boys didn't hold hands with their friends, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Vince took it in his without hesitation and Howard led him toward the kitchen door.

A few minutes later, when they were both sitting at the kitchen table, and Howard was spreading marmite onto bread as fast as he could to keep up with how fast Vince was stuffing the sandwiches into his mouth, he couldn't help smiling. Vince smiled back and with a huge gulp that looked almost painful, swallowed his mouthful.

"Howard?"

"Yes, Vince?"

"We're friends now, yeah?"

"Um." Howard wanted to say yes, so desperately. But he didn't actually want to look desperate. Then again, Vince was looking at him with a look in his eye that looked a little bit desperate to Howard, so maybe it was ok. He could call it enthusiastic instead of desperate. That sounded much better.

"Yes," he said and saw Vince actually sag with relief. "We're friends Vince."

"Best friends? Forever?"

"Ok," Howard nodded and was rewarded by another sunshine smile. He was fairly sure he'd do just about anything for one of those smiles.

...

And that was how it started.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter The Second.**

**I don't own the characters or the ideas. Sorry that it gets a little sad.**

* * *

"Vince! Vince we have to go! Now!"

"Wha? Why, Howard?"

Howard ran in through the open kitchen door, his face as red as a pomegranate and his hair slicked down with sweat. Vince thought he looked funny, but nice too. Howard was always getting into some sort of panic. Last week it'd been a spider building a web above his bed.

...

_"Vince! There's a spider weaving a web over my bed! He's plotting something, I just know it! Talk to him, please?"_

_"Oh, alright. But you should know, Howard, spiders are well hard to understand. Them pincers get in the way of their speech. Their elocution's 'orrible. And it's probably a girl spider too, you should know. Most spiders are." _

_Howard had just nodded, his head bobbing like a pink balloon on the top of his head. He'd agree with anything Vince said if it meant he'd get the spider out of his room._

_Vince had been nervous about telling his new friend about his gift. Too many grown-ups had told him off for lying and being a naughty boy. But Howard was different. He'd gone along with the adventure into the attic where they'd battled the dust demon and had even given good design input on Vince's soup can castle. So Vince had told him about being able to talk to animals. Howard had said, 'Ok' and that had been that. But Vince had felt his heart jump. He'd already decided Howard was the love of his life, this was just the sugar on the flying saucer, the icing on the cake, the customized buttons that made a good jacket into a one-of-a-kind. _

_"Come on, Howard," he'd smiled, enjoying the way Howard's eyes crinkled up when he smiled in return. "Let's go chat up that spider."_

...

Howard wasn't smiling now. And he looked far more agitated than he had been last week. His chest was heaving and he was leaning against the doorframe, trying to get his breath back. Usually Howard tried not to touch anything, including the walls, when he went in to Aunt Sherbert's house. It wasn't particularly clean and Howard's germ phobia tended to kick in when they were still a meter from the door. Whatever was bothering him must be serious.

"WemeedtoleavenowVince!"

"Alright, Howard," Vince said carefully. He stood up slowly from the kitchen table, pushing his colouring book and pencils away and turning toward his friend. Howard may be the older and more intelligent of the two but Vince secretly knew he was the brains of the operation.

"Why do we need to leave town, Howard?"

"Somebigboyswantmylunchmoney!"

Vince creased his brow. "What? Say it slower?"

Howard took a breath, shaking as he tried to pull himself together enough to be understood. He pulled himself up to his full height and planted his feet as he finally calmed down and Vince felt a tiny shiver go through him. Howard was impressive. One day he'd be an explorer or action man or something and when he was Vince would be there. He'd be the best side-kick ever.

For now though, he'd have to show Howard how to be a hero. He had the stance right but the crying would have to go.

"Some big boys want my lunch money, Vince," he said forlornly. "We have to leave town or they'll do something terrible."

He was still sort of crying and Vince felt sorry for him. Howard got scared easily and didn't think anyone would protect him. He didn't want to be protected by a kid who was more than three years younger than him (even though they'd agreed to pretend they were the same age). Vince thought it must be hard being Howard.

He crossed the small kitchen slowly and wrapped his arms around his awkward friend. Howard didn't hug back but he didn't freak out, which was an improvement on their first attempt. He looked up at his best friend, trying to be reassuring, when something Howard had said crept into his brain and made him confused.

"Why do I need to run away if they're stealing your money?"

"Because, um, because," Howard was trying to shuffle his feet, which was difficult considering Vince was still holding on like a baby possum.

"Because why?"

"Because you're my best friend, right?" Howard frowned down at him. "You wouldn't make me run away from town on my own would you?"

"'Course not, Howard," Vince smiled back, cuddling closer against Howard's chest. He'd never had a best friend before, or a friend at all really, but he liked it a lot. The adventures were genius. So were the hugs.

"Besides," Howard said weakly, putting his hands on Vince's shoulders and pushing him back gently. "They said they'd kidnap my girlfriend and cut off her hair if I don't give them the money by four o'clock."

"But, Howard, you don't have a girlfriend," Vince was really confused now. "Girls are scary, remember? And gross. Remember?"

"I know I don't have a girlfriend, you puppet. They're talking about you."

"Oh... Oh! No, Howard! Not my hair!"

Vince began to squeal and bounce from foot to foot. He loved his hair. He didn't care if they thought he was Howard's girlfriend. It was better than any real girl getting her hands on his Howard, but they couldn't take his hair.

"But I love my hair!"

"That's why we have to leave town!"

They agreed to meet at the end of the street in an hour with everything they'd need to begin their new life.

"And remember," Howard added as he raced out the door. "We're traveling on foot so you need to pack light. Just the essentials."

"Right," said Vince to himself. "Just the essentials."

As he turned to go to his room one of his aunt's ten cats slunk in looking mournful. None of the cats were happy. They didn't like living off tomato soup any more than he did.

"Just the essentials..." he whispered to himself.

...

Vince hadn't packed light. They been stopped by a passing police car after only two blocks. The officers had been ready just to send them home until the sound of mewling escaped Vince's enormous bundle.

There had been trouble after that. Bundling ten cats into a picnic blanket was apparently the wrong thing to do.

The boys had been escorted back to Vince's aunt's house but the state of the house had caused more problems. Auntie Sherbert had screeched over the treatment of her cats, attempting to throw a couple at the police until Vince was taken away. He'd screamed as they'd had to physically carry the tiny boy to the car.

"Howard! Howard, don't let them take me! Howard!"

But Howard hadn't been able to move. His mother had come running down the street at the commotion. So had everyone else. Auntie Sherbert was being restrained from reaching Vince, not to save him but to wring his neck for stealing her cats. Vince was wailing and scratching at the officer, his voice breaking in his anguish.

A second police car arrived and the crowd was ushered back to their homes. Vince was placed in a car which muffled his cries but didn't silence them entirely and Howard felt the tears tumbling down his face.

Vince was being taken from him. His Vince. His only friend. And it wasn't fair. He and Vince were supposed to be together forever. They were supposed to go on adventures together, see the world and the universe, and never be apart.

But the car was leaving, making its way down the street with Vince still banging his thin fists against the window. Howard broke away from his mother's arms and began to run, his long and gangly limbs flailing and not getting him very far very fast.

"Vince!"

But he was gone.

And that, Howard remembered, was how it ended.

...

For a while, at least.


	3. Chapter 3

**And now some more. I thought this was going to follow the same pattern of another story of mine, 'Panic Attack' but I think it's turning into something else. Ooh, it's a mystery.**

**Ta-ra.**

* * *

The next time Howard met Vince he'd barely recognised him.

It had been two years.

It was a Tuesday...

Howard had grown a foot and was already sprouting facial hair. He was twelve years, ten months and eight days old and he looked ridiculous in his grey shorts and too tight blazer. The school term had started the day before and Howard should have been happy but instead he was miserable. The only consolation was that at least he was too big to be shoved into a locker this year. He still had no friends though, and school was getting harder. He was less impressive to his teachers and the nerds in the library had moved on. Howard was alone.

That was until a short kid with a jagged mess of blonde hair had come and stood in front of his desk. He threw his bag on to the desk next to Howard's but stayed standing in front of him, waiting to be noticed.

Howard didn't want to look up. It was bad enough being picked on by kids who were shorter than him but this kid only looked about nine. In fact...

He looked up slowly, taking in the ribbon stitched around the shorts cuffs, brightening the grey with blue and silver. He studied the buttons on the blazer, each different, eye catching and lovingly sewn. He took in the tightly clenched fists and then finally at the intense face and the blue eyes, still overly big in his face behind the dirty blonde curls.

"Vince?!"

"Alright, Howard... You got any sandwiches?"

Howard gaped. Vince was talking like they'd only been apart for a week at most but his face was closed and he seemed agitated. He needed to say something. He needed to express somehow that he was sorry for not running faster, for not trying to find him after the police car had taken him away. He wanted to say how much he'd missed Vince, how Vince was still his best friend, how he still wanted to spend his life having adventured with him.

"What's that on your head?"

Vince cracked a smile. It was a shadow of the true Vince Noir signature smile but it made Howard feel hopeful.

"It's my hair, innit, small eyes."

"What happened to it?"

Vince slouched into the seat beside Howard, scowling deeply and running his fingers through the thick hair. His response came out as a whisper.

"My Uncle Gregg lopped it all off."

Howard thought he might cry. He knew he couldn't. If he cried at school, over another boy's hair, the other kids would find a way to shove him in to a locker, even if it meant removing his legs first.

"I'm sorry Vince," he replied equally softly, and he really was. Vince's hair had been his crowning glory, his favourite accessory. He'd loved his hair and Howard had spent many lazy afternoons brushing it at Vince's request. He couldn't imagine Vince without hair. It was odd enough seeing him with an untamed, undyed mop on his head. It must have been the worst form of torture for him, to have his hair cut off. Howard shuddered to think what Vince must have felt.

"It's alright, Howard. It's grown back now. And I'll get my hands on a can of hair spray eventually. Just you wait. How are you doing, anyway? Gone adventuring yet?"

Howard gave a shy smile and looked down at his desk.

"I'm doing alright. No adventures without you though."

Vince let out a soft laugh and Howard didn't look up.

"Howard you old softy. What am I gonna do with you, ya berk?"

Howard shrugged. Vince was different now, perhaps he didn't want Howard as his friend. Perhaps he wasn't into adventures anymore. Perhaps he wanted cooler friends. Howard needed to do something to draw him in, to show his affection. But what?

And then he remembered.

"Did you really want a sandwich?"

Vince's whole body perked up at the prospect of food and Howard couldn't help the grin that swept across his face. Seeing those blue eyes go as wide as saucers and sparkle like they were full of glitter was one of the best sights he had ever seen. He didn't think it got much better, as far as sights went. A sunset was nothing compared to the delighted eyes of Vince Noir.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course, little man," Howard replied, digging into his bag for his lunchbox. His mother always packed him at least a dozen sandwiches, convinced that a growing boy needed an entire loaf every lunchtime.

He handed over a marmite sandwich to Vince and received such a bright smile in return that he actually started to worry about getting sunburnt, or smile-burnt, he supposed.

As Vince wolfed down the sandwich Howard began to wonder about why he was so hungry. And why he was here at all.

"Vince?" he asked timidly, just as the other students started filing in, laughing and chattering and, thankfully, ignoring Howard and Vince. "You're not living with your crazy cat auntie are you?"

"No," Vince tried to say through the sandwich. Howard passed him his water bottle to clear his mouth. He'd given up on lecturing Vince on safe eating on the third day of their acquaintance.

"Cheers, Howard," he said when he'd swallowed his mouthful. "Nah, I'm not with Auntie Sherbert, she ain't even in that house anymore, didn't you know?"

"No. We moved down to Lester Street."

"Oh, that explains why I didn't see you then."  
"Didn't see me when?" Vince rolled his eyes but Howard got the impression that he was rolling them at himself rather than at his friend.

"Walked to school this morning. Past your house. Pretty dumb, huh?"

Howard blushed, which didn't make sense. Vince was embarrassed so _he_ went red? It wasn't logical but, he realised, life with Vince hadn't been particularly logical last time.

"Hang on," he said suddenly. "What are you doing in my class? You've only just turned nine!"

A few people turned at that and Howard blushed again, realising that his voice had done it's annoying squeaking thing again. He couldn't wait for his voice to drop properly. Then he'd be a real man.

"Keep it down, will ya," Vince scolded. "As if you remember my real age anyway."

"But what are you doing here?"

"Convinced my relatives I was twelve didn't I? It weren't hard. I got passed around so much after I left Sherbert's house and no one's got a record of my birth certificate. I just kept on insisting and they believed me. Simple."

"But," Howard was confused. It didn't seem simple to him. "But you're tiny Vince, and what about the school work? It's quite hard this year. How will you cope?"

"Don't you worry about me, Howard," Vince grinned at him, throwing in a wink for good measure.

"But-"

"I'm a gifted child, Howard. Ain't nothing I can't do."

And he was right.

Well... almost.

...

And that was how it began.


	4. Chapter 4

**A short chapter for now. More to come later. **

**Ta. **

**(The usual disclaimer applies: I don't own the Boosh, much as I wish I did. I own my mismatched socks. That's about it.)**

* * *

Vince had been nervous about being put with a foster family but his aunts and uncles had decided it was for the best. They were busy people, they couldn't keep up with a small boy with an imagination the size of Belgium.

They didn't really want him, Vince knew. He reminded them of his mum, and that was too painful.

Brian had wanted him but between touring the world and living wild in the jungles of India he'd realised that he couldn't give Vince the normal life he thought a boy should have. So he'd sent him back to England after only two months and the other aunts and uncles had decided that a foster family was in everyone's best interests. Vince hadn't had a say in the matter and at first the rejection had hurt. That was, until he found out he was going to Leeds.

His extended family had needed to fill out a lot of paperwork and Vince had convinced them of his age and talked enough in the interview to convince the social worker too. No one batted an eyelid really, at a foster kid who looked three years younger than his supposed age. They just assumed he hadn't been fed properly. He was going into foster care after all.

He'd been nervous about school. Not about the work, he could charm his way through that no worries. No, Vince was worried that he'd get there and Howard wouldn't be there, or that he wouldn't want a weird, little friend anymore. What if Howard didn't like his hair? He was desperate to do something with it but his foster family, nice though they were, didn't really understand the concept of a boy wanting to style his hair. They'd been a bit shocked at the way he'd customised his uniform but had figured that all in all he was a well behaved kid. Anxious but good.

Vince looked over at Howard and smiled. Howard was grinning and trying not to show it, his little eyes crinkling up and looking like chocolate coated raisins. Vince's stomach growled and he blushed as Howard looked toward the noise. He'd been too nervous for breakfast that morning.

"So why weren't you here yesterday, then?" Howard whispered as the teacher entered the room and began to greet various students.

"I was, um..." Vince didn't want to tell the truth. He didn't want to have to admit to having a panic attack and vomiting at the thought of going to school. Of going to school and Howard not being there, to be precise.

"I was trapped in my new room by a giant spider who wanted me to customize her web with rhinestone studs and no matter how many times I told her that my stud gun wouldn't work on spider silk, she just didn't listen. It was well freaky. My foster dad had to break down the door like a ghostbuster and hoover her up."

"Wow," Howard whispered. He wouldn't question a story about spiders. Spiders were unpredictable, scary. They were capable of anything as far as Howard was concerned and Vince felt proud that he'd been able to weave such a believable story in so short a time.

"You have a foster dad?"

"Uh-huh. And a foster mum. They're way better than crazy Aunty Sherbert. Or Aunty Lemon, or Aunty Pearl, or Aunty Eleanor, or Uncle Lou, or Uncle Blue, or Uncle Gregg..."

"You have a lot of relatives, Vince."

"And yet none of them wanted to have me," Vince smiled ruefully.

He regretted it immediately. Howard looked so sad, like a melancholy shrimp, but Vince didn't really get why. It was nice to have someone care that much though. He gave a sly grin, biting his lip and leaning over toward Howard so the teacher wouldn't hear.

"You still want to be my best friend, Howard?"

"Yes!"

Vince cringed. Howard's voice was breaking and that 'yes' had come out awfully loud and every child in the class was suddenly giggling and pointing. Their teacher had a look of surprise on her face at being interrupted and Howard was going that funny pomegranate colour again and trying to disappear inside his blazer.

Vince was getting cross. People weren't allowed to laugh at his Howard. Only he was allowed to laugh at Howard because he never actually meant it. Why wasn't the teacher telling them to stop?

Why were grown-ups so rubbish!

"Oi!" he cried, using his roughest cockney accent. "Leave Howard alone, right? And listen to the teacher!"

The giggling stopped. The teacher blinked. Howard sat up properly and gradually returned to a normal colour.

"Yes, well, thank you, um..." the teacher searched her class list for the right name.

"It's Vince Noir," he told her and then turned to Howard.

"Vince Noir Rock'n'Roll Star," they whispered together and Vince wished they were sitting closer so he could hold Howard's hands without anyone seeing. Howard was still his best friend. They were back together again.

And he had a genius plan for an adventure all set to go for when the last bell rang.

Life just kept getting better.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello, another chapter from me. Sorry.**

**And I think it's getting sad again.**

* * *

Vince had been right. He'd settled in just fine with students three years older than himself, doing school work that should have been far too advanced for him. There was almost nothing he couldn't do. Except spelling. Vince was rubbish at spelling.

Or, at least, Howard thought he was. It was hard to tell.

Vince did his work, got Bs and even helped Howard out from time to time, but he also managed to convince everyone that he was innocent, empty headed and completely non-threatening. Until he told the whole class to shut up and learn their long division.

Howard was confused. How could one boy be at once small and sweet, a cockney ragamuffin, a brain box, and a bimbo?

He was selectively brilliant, Howard decided. Smart in certain areas and dense in others. And a really good actor.

And he was Howard's best friend.

It had been so easy to slip back into their friendship. Even though Vince got plenty of attention he still insisted on hanging out with Howard at lunchtimes. Girls were always coming up to them to talk fashion and Vince was always friendly and enthusiastic but when they left he'd always reassure Howard that girl's weren't as interesting as him.

That was confusing too. Vince thought that he, Howard, was more interesting than any of the girls in the school.

It didn't make sense, but Howard wasn't going to question it. He worried that if he did he'd realise that none of this was real, that Vince was just a figment of his imagination, that he'd gone mad and needed to be locked up. He'd rather just carry on with the delusion, hoping it would last.

Life with Vince was addictive. This had been the best year ever.

...

"Howard. Howard? Howard. Howard? Howard!"

"Ouch!"

Howard jumped as Vince poked him hard in the rib. They were sitting in Vince's bedroom, surrounded by homework, Vince's bizarre crayon drawings, bags of sweets and scraps of colourful fabric. Vince was trying to come up with a costume for the end of term dance and Howard was supposed to be helping.

"You gone into a trance again, Howard?"

"Why'd you poke me?"

Vince rolled his eyes. "I've been trying to get your attention for hours."

"Don't exaggerate, Vince."

"Fine, minutes. Happy?"

"Yup."

"You're supposed to be helping me though," he whined. "I need your help."

It was Howard's turn to roll his eyes. They both knew Vince didn't need anyone's help when it came to fashion. The tiny boy was a force of fashion nature.

"You don't need my help, Vince," he told him, passing him a bag of strawberry bootlaces. "You're a fashion genius."

Vince gave him a mega watt smile that made his stomach attempt a backflip and made the exaggerated compliment worth it.

"You're well sweet, Howard," Vince grinned, practically batting his eyelids. No ten year old boy should be able to do that, Howard was sure.

"But I ain't a genius. My boots are genius but, me? I'm a borderline simpleton. You know that."

"But you're not," Howard told him in confusion.

"Yes I am. I write in crayon. I can't spell. Can't count past ten. You know that. You're the smart one."

Howard frowned. Vince was looking at him with eyes so big and blue they were nearly hypnotic. Vince did like crayons and surely someone who misspelled every third word he wrote couldn't be intelligent. Howard was older, more world wise. Vince liked bright colours and soft fabrics. Vince was right. He supposed.

He saw Vince grin and smiled back.

"What did you need help with, little man?"

"I need help with my costume. I wanna go as Bowie but need you to help me straighten my hair so I can try out a new style."

"Oh, ok."

It didn't occur to Howard that most thirteen-year-old boys didn't help their friends straighten their hair. He loved Vince's hair, even though he called it a wig, a mop, a mangled hat and half a dozen other silly names. He hoped Vince would never revoke his hair touching privileges.

Howard began to brush Vince's hair while they waited for the hair tongs to heat up. The two boys had saved for months and pooled their money to buy them but Howard knew it was worth it. Vince leaned against him, relaxing into the sensation and Howard felt his eyes growing heavy. It was warm in Vince's room and his best friend's weight against him was reassuring. He smelt like apple blossom scented shampoo and Howard eventually stopped brushing and just pulled Vince more fully into his lap.

Vince snuggled into him with a sigh and together they fell asleep.

...

And that was how it ended.


	6. Chapter 6

**I realised that I leave for The Netherlands in a week and should probably get this story done before then so I've been doing some writing and finally found a kind of ending. This isn't the ending. This is the kind of middle.**

**Ta.**

* * *

Howard woke with a shout. The nightmare was still vivid in his mind, even though his eyes were open. Why couldn't it just stop? It'd been over two years already.

...

_The fire was licking up the walls around him, the thick smoke burning his lungs and distorting the room. _

_There was something on top of him and he couldn't escape. He screamed for the weight to be removed, to get off him, but it didn't. It had taken a long time for Howard to realise that the weight was Vince and that Vince wasn't moving. He'd pushed the small boy off onto the bed and stumbled upright, staggering to the door. Opening the door hadn't cleared the air much so Howard had rushed back to scoop up Vince. _

_He'd been heavy. Heavier than Howard had thought he could be and he hadn't got him very far. _

...

Howard rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and moaned, trying to get rid of the memory. He'd spent the last two years trying to get rid of that memory but he knew he never would.

The fire fighters had arrived quickly. They'd got Vince out.

Vince had been lucky, they said as they lifted him into the ambulance and placed an oxygen mask over his smoke smudged face. He'd been driven away, again. And once again Howard hadn't run fast enough. He'd gone back to watch to burning house, staring at the flames as they devoured the wood, knowing somehow they were devouring his perfect world as well.

It wasn't fair.

Vince had spent three weeks in the hospital but Howard hadn't visited. He'd wanted to but he was scared. He hoped that he could visit when Vince got to go home but Vince never came home. There was no home to come back to, and no foster parents either.

Vince had disappeared again.

Howard eventually found out through the school that his friend had been claimed by another relative, taken to Europe. And that was that. He had been pulled from his life again and Howard hadn't said goodbye. Hadn't said sorry.

It had been two years.

Howard was fifteen years and three months old. He could pass for twenty easily. And he was alone. He had no friends and he was ready to chuck in school and run away. Once he'd imagined that at this age he'd be having adventures, shaping up to be a real man of action, with his best friend, the boy he loved to bits, at his side. Now he wondered whether Vince had been a delusion after all.

He looked over at his bedside table and the picture displayed lovingly beside the digital alarm clock. Vince had taken the photo, hanging off Howard's shoulders and grinning like an impossible mixture of angel and gremlin. Nightmarish and utterly beautiful. Howard was doing his own annoying smile, the one that made his eyes go all crinkly and closed up. He looked like an old man when he smiled and it just made Vince look even younger. The photo was two and a half years old now, and had been taken the day they'd first battled the Squirrel People in the alley behind Howard's old house.

Howard sighed. He missed that house. The new house was ok, he supposed, but he didn't like his housemates. He didn't like his mother's new husband. He didn't like his mother's husband's children. He especially didn't like that everyone expected him to refer to them as his step-father and step-brother and step-sister. He hated that they were all so happy.

He was counting down the days until his sixteenth birthday, when he could leave home without being considered a runaway. He had a plan to travel Europe, and somehow, he didn't know how, find Vince. He had taught himself to play the guitar and trumpet and keyboard and he intended to busk his way from place to place. It would be rough he knew, but he had to prove that he was worthy of the name Howard TJ Moon, worthy of being the man Vince had wanted him to be. It was nine months to the day until his sixteenth birthday. Nine months until he could start his journey to find the tiny, pointy faced boy who made his mind light up with just a laugh, who made his heart do a jimmy flip with a flash of that mega watt, Vince Noir, smile.

Howard frowned as he sat up in bed and began to fiddle with his brown quilt cover. He knew it wasn't normal to be infatuated with a boy who was only twelve. He worried that it made him a pedo, or something, but he'd loved Vince since he was ten, before he considered that it wasn't normal to love your best mate like they were your saviour.

He'd discovered girls in the last twelve months. It had been quite odd. Girls were nice to look at, he realised, and he'd quite like to be allowed to go out with one, you know, to chat to and have a cup of tea with. He wasn't sure about kissing them and he didn't really want to hold hands. Hand holding was something special he did with Vince. It didn't feel right to do it with anyone else.

He wondered if Vince was into girls yet. Probably not.

Howard often forgot that Vince was younger than him. Vince was twelve and Howard didn't think normal twelve-year-olds were into girls. Not that Vince was normal. Vince was weird. He hoped he was still weird. It'd be sad if he finally found his friend only to discover that he'd gone normal and was wearing grey by choice.

He glanced back at the picture and smiled. It was ok to smile when he was alone, no one could make fun of him when he was alone. Glancing at the photo unfortunately also alerted him to the time. Eight o'clock. He was going to be late for school.

It was a Tuesday.

Howard hated Tuesdays.

The walk to school was long because Howard was dragging his feet. He hated being late but he hated school more. And he hated Tuesdays because Tuesdays meant PE and Howard wasn't sporty in the slightest.

He made it through the morning by keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact and when PE came around he went to the far corner of the football field and tried to avoid the ball and the other kids.

It didn't work.

The ball came flying and hit him square in the chest and he fell backwards, landing awkwardly and still refusing to look up, hearing the laughs of his class mates, feeling the intense blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. He saw the feet running toward him though, flashy football boots all silver and pink. Who in his class wore boots like that?

"You alright, small eyes?"

Howard couldn't breathe. It couldn't be possible. He couldn't be this lucky. His life didn't work like this. This was... mad.

Then again... it was a Tuesday.

"Howard? You alright? You hurt or just in a trance? I didn't mean for the ball to hit ya, Howard. I just wanted to get your attention is all. Howard?"

The voice was a little deeper, less rough around the edges, but it was the same voice.

And who else in this boring school would own silver and pink football boots?

He looked up.

"Vince?"

The hair was dark and streaked with blue and red and the eyes appeared to be rimmed with eyeliner. The nose was a little more crooked, like it had been broken, and there was a general sense that this was not a kid, not a little boy anymore. But the smile was still the same and when Howard finally looked into his eyes he felt like his body was being filled with lemonade, fizzy and bubbly and overwhelming.

"Vince."

"Alright, Howard?"

"D'you... want a sandwich?"

Vince began to laugh, and Howard began to grin and before he knew it, Vince was on the grass beside him, cackling and holding his stomach, looking and sounding like an absolute lunatic. He threw the ball back to the other students, who were standing and watching in bemusement before turning to Howard and giving him a tight hug.

"Don't touch me!" Howard yelped and Vince's arms disappeared along with his laughter. Ever since the night of the fire, waking up with a person's weight on him and not being able to move, Howard had been weird about touch. It wasn't that he didn't want to hug Vince, he did, but he just freaked out when another person put their weight against him. It had made it even easier for the school bullies to get to him and while he wanted to be able to be hugged, he just couldn't get past the fear that had built up in his head.

He glanced around, relieved that the football game seemed to have recommenced and no one was looking in their direction. He wasn't sure how well he'd be able to control his emotions right now and he really didn't want an audience.

"Are you ok, Howard?" Vince asked, dipping his head so he could look into Howard's face. It was such a sweet and familiar gesture that it made Howard begin to relax but he was still hugely confused.

"You look exactly the same!"

Vince grinned.

"Boy who never grew up, I am. But I ain't really the same, any more than you. You're a right buffalo man now!"

"I, I... What are you doing here, Vince?"

The younger boy looked a little hurt but bumped his shoulder against Howard's in a matey way as he sat down next to him, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees.

"Came to find you, didn't I? Thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I am! I just... How did you get here?"

"Plane. Then car."

"But, but..."

Vince sighed, taking pity on Howard's confused mind.

"I've been livin' in France with my uncle Jean Claude the last few years, ever since... you know."

"Yeah, that," Howard nodded and felt Vince's fingers creep into his hand. He gave them a reassuring squeeze.

"Well, turns out I have a few relatives over there. Shoulda guessed with a name like Noir, I suppose. One of the old geezers, some Duke, took a shine to me and when he died a few months back he left me all his money. Crazy, right?"

"A bit."

"So now I'm loaded, though Jean Claude says it's called being 'Independently Wealthy', or some bollocks. Most of it's in an account I can't touch 'til I'm well old - like thirty! - but I've got enough. He helped me get a place here, hired me a nanny/house keeper type so I won't get in trouble for being an unaccompanied minor, and wished me luck. Genius, innit?"

Howard had gone beyond confusion. Vince was here, sitting beside him on the grass, holding his hand, talking about inheriting from a duke, and he just couldn't take it in.

"But why come here? To Leeds? Ever since I've known you you've complained about this place. If you've got that kind of money why come here of all places?"

Vince gave him a look that said very clearly that Howard was an idiot, but it was an affectionate look all the same.

"Clean your ears out, I told you already. I came to find you. Did a pretty good job too, considering you've moved house again, and schools. You're a hard man to track down, Howard Moon. A right maverick you are."

Howard chuckled and felt Vince lean against his shoulder. It was just like old times but surely that was strange. It shouldn't be so easy, should it?

But they'd slipped back in to their friendship with barely a hiccup.

...

And that was how it began again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Another longish chapter. But I didn't like it 'cos it made me sad.**

* * *

Two years passed. Two glorious years of adventures, misadventures and the usual school-time anxieties. Life was bearable with Vince around and Howard found that he actually enjoyed going to school. Except that Vince seemed to be charming his teachers into giving him good grades. It was infuriating. Howard spent ages studying and reading and Vince just seemed to sail through, and whenever Howard asked him how he did it, he gave a different answer.

...

"How do you do it?"

"Do what, Howard?"

"Pass that science exam when you're thicker than a rhinoceros?"

"Aw, thanks, Howard."

"You know what I mean. So how'd you do it?"

"I'm a gifted child, Howard, there ain't nothing I can't do."

...

"How did you do it?"

"Do what, Howard?"

"Get a B on the English test."

"Charm, Howard. Sheer charm."

...

"How did you do it, Vince? It's not fair!"

"Mirrors. They do it with mirrors, you know, Howard."

"Who do it with mirrors!?"

"Ah now," Vince tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially. "That would be telling."

...

"Vince," Howard groaned as he dragged himself out of another maths class.

"What's the matter, small eyes?"

"How do you manage to get exactly 75% on every test?!"

"The trick is, Howard," Vince leaned in with whisper, "To make sure that you only answer 75% of the questions correctly and get the other 25% just a tiny bit wrong."

"But!" Howard ran after his friend's retreating back. "To do that you'd have to know the correct answers to every question on the test!"

"Yup."

"And then you'd need to calculate what percentage of the questions would get you 75!"

"Yup."

"But you'd need to be a genius!"

Vince just grinned in a way that no fourteen-year-old boy should have known how to do.

"You're not a genius, Vince! Are you?"

"Who me?" Vince opened his eyes wide and blinked slowly until Howard was thoroughly hypnotised. "Of course not, Howard. You're the brainy one. I'm just a bit lucky is all."

"Oh... yeah."

...

And that was how it continued.

...

Until, all too soon, they had reached their final year. Howard wasn't getting along with his mother or his step-father, who expected him to excel and bring home several A-levels and maybe a school award or two. Howard wasn't interested. He didn't know what he wanted to do instead but he knew that school qualifications weren't important. Not when you were destined to be a man of action like Howard TJ Moon. He just needed to discover what it was he was supposed to do with his life.

...

"Vince!"

"Wha-"

"Vince, Vince, Vince, Vince, Vince, Vince, Vince, Vince!"

Vince jumped up from his kitchen table and ran to greet Howard who was in the process of letting himself into Vince's apartment. One week after Vince's arrival back in Leeds two years ago he'd presented Howard with his own key to the apartment so he was able to let himself in and out as he pleased. He was already spending more time there than at his own home, and sometimes Vince worried that he should talk to his mate about his unhappy home life, but that was all too hard and the comfortable domesticity of Howard dropping by without having to knock brought Vince too much happiness to try and ruin it with a meaningful chat.

"What's the matter, Howard?"

He looked over his friend, who was struggling to release his key from the lock so that he could enter the apartment properly. Instead of replying Howard thrust a page from a national newspaper at his friend and continued to struggle with the key. Vince creased his brow and tried to find what had Howard so excited.

"Man swallows own foot: claims 'It tasted of chicken.' What?"

"Not that you muppet," Howard scoffed, pulling the key free and stumbling into the entry hall.

"Look at the advert at the bottom!"

Vince looked, and his eyes widened at what he saw. It was a job advert, for zoo keepers, in London.

"Are you young, strong and full of vinegar? Want a chance to prove yourself in the exciting field of animal keeping? Fancy sleeping on the floor and working every day of the year with glory as your reward? Apply in person to Bob Fossil and prepare yourself for the wild ride of a working life at the Zooniverse!"

He blinked up at Howard, who was practically bouncing around the room with excitement.

"Are you serious, Howard? The Zooniverse? And there are three exclamation marks at the end of it, that can't be a good sign, surely. Only crazy people use that many exclamation marks. You really want to be a zoo keeper? What about school?"

Howard's features darkened at his friend's words and he snatched the newspaper away, examining the ad with a dizzy smile.

"What would you know about it, you little idiot? I'm going to be a zoo keeper!"

"But Howard, what about school?"

"It's not really important, is it? Not in the real world. And it's not like we're really any good at school."

Vince's jaw dropped in surprise as he looked up at his best friend. He couldn't be serious.

"But, but, I got six GCSEs!"

"GCSEs aren't important, Vince. Everybody knows that."

Howard marched past him into the kitchen where Vince had been hard at work but he didn't seem to notice that the table was covered in cooking utensils and sachets of different food colourings.

"Are you sure, Howard?"

"Of course I am, Vince. You're just so naive that you don't realise these things. I'm the brainy one, remember? Stick with me and we'll be fine."

Vince looked down at his stripy sock covered feet. He wasn't sure. He was clever, he knew he was, but he'd spent so many years telling everyone that he was simple... Howard told him he was simple everyday... Maybe Howard was right. It wasn't like anyone would miss him if he went. None of his relatives would care if he dropped out of school. Well, maybe Jean Claude and Brian, but they wouldn't try to stop him either. Except...

"Howard, I know you're turning eighteen and all, but, well... I'm only fifteen, ain't I?"

Howard, who had been reading and rereading the Zooniverse ad looked up with a start. He'd forgotten that Vince wasn't really the same age as him. Everyone just thought of Vince as the short kid in the class, the boy who looked a bit like a girl, the weird kid who was cool and interesting but still too odd to actually be considered popular. It was hard to remember that he was actually only fifteen. Still, why should that matter?

"But no one knows you're fifteen, Vince. You've got new paperwork to say that you're seventeen, soon to be eighteen. You can come with me, it'll be great!"

Vince nodded and sat back down at the table, remembering as he did so, why he'd been sitting in there to begin with.

"Oh! Happy birthday, Howard! I made you a cake."

The cake was, even Vince had to admit, a work of art. He'd decorated it with as many colours as he could and written Howard's name out in piping in the centre. He hadn't bought a big present because the one thing he really wanted to give his friend wasn't something you could buy in shops, but he'd bought a few little things and he really hoped that Howard got the idea when he saw them. He really hoped he didn't have to explain to his best friend what he felt, what he wanted, what he'd come to realise over the last six months.

...

Vince was in love with Howard.

This wasn't such a shock. Vince had loved Howard since the first time he'd offered him a sandwich and had lived with the belief that no matter what happened in his life, he was destined to spend it with Howard.

The real shock had come over the Christmas holidays six months ago, when the dreams had started. Vince was well aware that despite his big personality and flair for dressing older and talking older than he was, he was small. He was even small for a fifteen-year-old, and puberty had been slow in rearing it's head. But when it did...

Vince had been prepared, in a way, for the dreams and the embarrassment and all the gross and inconvenient things that came along with hitting puberty, because Howard had been moaning about them for years, but he hadn't been prepared for the first time he dreamed of his best friend and woke up to a sticky mess.

He hadn't been ready for the reaction of his body (and mind) to seeing Howard getting undressed, or the feel of Howard's strong arms around him when he'd stumbled on an icy footpath. He'd assumed that when all this happened, it would be in reaction to girls. Or guys who looked like Bowie. Howard never really talked specifics, just general feelings, but Vince knew that feeling this way about your best mate wasn't exactly the norm.

What he did know was that he and Howard were closer than most friends, and that Howard liked to hold his hand when no one was watching, and would brush his hair and buy him sweets, and that, when he finally did tell Howard, he would understand.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

Because what Vince wanted to give Howard for his eighteenth birthday, more than anything... was a kiss.

...

"Wow, Vince," Howard stared down at the cake. "It sure is... colourful. Did you make it yourself?"

"Yup."

"Well done, little man."

Vince grinned.

"Thanks Howard. I got a present too as well. Two actually."

He handed over the gifts and watched as Howard opened first the small pouch and then the larger package. He watched as Howard looked at the small, silver thimble in confusion. He watched as he made a face when he saw that the package contained a book and that that book was _'Peter Pan.'_ Vince felt his heart drop. He'd only discovered the book a few years ago, and had been enthralled by it. He'd assumed that Howard, with his relatively normal childhood, would have read the story, or had it read to him at some point. But it seemed that Vince had been mistaken in his assumptions.

He quickly put candles onto the cake and struck a match to light them, clearing his throat to get Howard's attention.

"How's about you make a wish? And then we can scoff the cake. _And_ I got my hands on an actual six pack of ale. You've got to have drink on your eighteenth. What d'you reckon?"

He opened his eyes as wide as they would go, biting his lip and willing Howard to agree and forget about the failed gift. He'd try again next year, he decided. He'd think of something better to explain to Howard that he was head over heels in love with him. Howard smiled.

"Sure thing, little man. And, uh... thanks for the gifts. Is the silver thing... a lucky charm?"

"... Yup."

Vince nodded his head bobbling on his neck like a rag doll's.

"And the book's about this boy who doesn't want to grow up. Kinda reminded me of us is all. It's silly. You don't have to read it."

Howard smiled at his friend and Vince felt his stomach twist and his whole body flush.

"Wish time then?" Vince flicked off the kitchen light.

"Definitely," Howard replied, leaning over the candles and looking to Vince like some strange and frightening, but devastatingly handsome, demigod.

"And I know what my wish is too."

"You do?"

"I do. My wish, Vince, is that you'll come and work at the Zooniverse with me. I'd love that."

Vince blinked slowly. And swallowed. And licked his bottom lip. And nodded.

"Sure thing, Howard. Where you go, I go. I'll be your side-kick, yeah? Learn all about the animals from you, talk to the animals to help you out. We can find a place to share in London and all. It'll be genius."

Howard didn't notice the sadness in Vince's tone, or the way his voice wavered.

"You and me, Vince. Best mates forever." And with that he blew out the candles and plunged the room into darkness. Vince didn't mind. In the darkness Howard couldn't see the tear trickle down his cheek.

...

And that was how it continued.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry about this chapter. But it's not the end.**

* * *

And so Howard and Vince went to the zoo. Vince sold his apartment and used the money to rent a zookeepers hut from Fossil. They fell into a routine which worked for a while but never really made them happy. There were adventures certainly, but japes that had started out exciting and magical eventually became dark and terrifying. Banter turned into disagreements, which turned into arguments, which turned into fights, which turned into a deep seated disappointment. But they stayed together, through every terrible job and misadventure. Vince's money kept them afloat when the zoo closed, and financed Naboo's shop, but Howard never thought about it. No one did. Vince was just that lucky, weird little man-child. It made sense that he would always have the necessary cash to keep them all going. No one bothered to ask Vince, because Vince was a simpleton and probably wouldn't know anyway.

And every year Vince wondered if this would be the year that he would be brave enough to tell Howard the truth, but it never was.

And that was how it continued.

Until it didn't anymore.

...

The kiss happened. And for one glorious moment Vince thought that maybe it was all going to work out and be a happy ending. But then he'd ruined it and then Howard had ditched him for a girl and it had hurt so much he'd decided it had to end. He'd decided to leave Howard for good.

Only that hadn't gone according to plan either. He'd been ditched by the band and Howard had been whisked off to Europe instead.

And then the letter had come. Vince was turning thirty, which meant that the rest of the money and property he had inherited would soon be at his disposal. He'd almost forgotten about the inheritance. He'd almost forgotten his real age, and the date of his birthday. Maybe it was time for a more permanent change of scenery.

And then, quite unexpectedly, Howard came back.

...

"Why did you come back, Howard? Why bother?"

Howard looked down at his feet, reminding Vince of an over-grown ten-year-old, which was what Howard had been in any case.

"Because it's a Tuesday?"

Vince wanted to scream. He wanted to stamp and shriek and throw things but he couldn't. Not when Howard said something like that.

"I have to go, Howard. I have to get out. I'm going to go back to France and live quietly for a bit. The whole Camden scene, it's not for me anymore."

Howard was shocked. Vince could tell by the way his jaw hung open and his eyes were open so wide you could almost see all the brown.

"But I just got back!"

"Doesn't matter." Vince shook his head. "I was going to do it anyway. You coming back has just made up my mind for me."

"But what about your dreams? How're you going to achieve them in some French village? Vince Noir Rock'n'Roll Star? Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"Not really, Howard. I told you years ago, back at the zoo after that disaster with the Electro girls and the Spirit of Jazz. I don't think the world of rock'n'roll's for me. Besides, it was just the way my mum remembered who I was. It didn't mean I was destined to be a great front man or anything."

"But all those years we spent doing gigs and searching for the new sound?"

"You were the one who was desperate for fame and fortune by that point, Howard. If I'd really wanted a music carrier that badly, don't you think I could have just thrown some money around and got it done that way?"

"Money? What money?"

"Have you really forgotten?"

"But... What about the times you went off with other bands?"

"Well..." Vince sighed. "That is a bit embarrassing. I joined the punk band because I'm easily influenced aren't I? And I'm rubbish at saying no to people. Plus it made you jealous. You went back to performing with me right after that. And we started crimping again. I wouldn't have got through the whole Flighty Zeus thing if we hadn't been back to being close again."

Howard nodded. All of that certainly sounded like Vince.

"What about the Black Tubes?"

"Oh, them." Vince blushed. "I knew they were going on tour straight after their gig in my Electro Circus and well, I needed an excuse to get away for a while."

"But why?"

Vince bit his lip.

"I thought you hated me."

He said it in such a small voice that Howard nearly missed it, but he didn't, and it made his heart hurt to hear his best friend so vulnerable.

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because of the whole Crack Fox thing, and because of the party and because of..."

"The kiss?"

"Yeah. The kiss."  
"Oh, you simpleton," Howard smiled, rolling his eyes but he stopped when he saw the dejection on Vince's face.

"Yep, that's me. Your simpleton."

He was looking down at his gold boots and Howard thought he saw the younger man's bottom lip tremble. Did Vince really believe that? Did Howard? Vince had used to claim he was dumb, an air head, a simpleton, when he was trying to get away with something, or escape notice. At some point Howard had started agreeing with him and somewhere along the line Vince himself had started to believe it.

Once upon a time Vince's mantra had been 'I'm a gifted child'. Now he was more likely to tell himself, 'Accessorize and everything will be ok'.

When had that happened? And how much of the change was down to Howard's rough treatment of his friend?

It didn't bear thinking of but Howard knew he had to.

"You're not a simpleton, Vince," he whispered. "You're Vince Noir: the boy who convinced countless adults that he was three years older than he really was; the boy who made me believe in magic and adventures; the boy who managed to live independently at the age of twelve; who was top of the class before I pulled him out of school too early. You're _Vince Noir_. You made me see possibilities in life. You..."

"I just held you back, Howard. I'm nothing. I'm the kid no one wanted. I have seven uncles and thirteen aunts. None of them wanted me. My mum couldn't even remember who I was when she died." He sighed. "I need to get away for a bit. I need to find out who I am."

Howard felt sure he would cry now. He shook his head. Things had gotten out of control and he wasn't sure how that had happened. Wasn't sure when he'd forgotten who his friend was and made him into something else. Because that was the problem with Vince. He'd become what he thought you wanted, even if it hurt him. He needed to fix this. But how?

"I think..." He took a deep breath. "I think you're right, Vince. I think this needs to end."

...

And that was how it ended.


	9. Chapter 9

**Three chapters to go. And I still don't know if I like it.**

* * *

Howard was nervous. He opened his back pack and retrieved his packed lunch, staring down at the sandwiches in front of him. He'd packed two sets of sandwiches for the trip; one set that he could eat on the journey, and one set that were to be saved until he arrived. He took a thoughtful bite of bread and bovril and thought back to the day last week when he'd finally received the letter, the summons.

...

_'Dear Howard,_

_I hope you're doing alright. Been thinking of me? I've been thinking about you. Probably too much. But I finally realised that there's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I haven't. _

_The thing is, Howard, I love you. And not just as a mate, although I do love you as a mate. You're my best friend, Howard, and I'll always love you. But I love you in the other way too. You know, in THAT way. Turns out I'm as rubbish at writing this as I am at saying it._

_I love you, Howard. I've always loved you and I've been in love with you in a romantic kind of way since I was about fourteen. At first I thought I could find a perfect time to tell you and then I thought I could just deal with it. But I couldn't. I'm sorry._

_It's nice out here, Howard, and the the chateau is pretty genius, even if it's a bit run down. I've been trying to get it fixed up and it's just about ready. That's kind of why I'm writing this letter. I'd like you to come over. The time alone was great but I miss you. I found out who I am and it turns out that the person I am needs you. But before you come I need you to know how I feel about you. That I love you, like I wrote up there. So if you think that maybe, somehow, we could make it work between us, please come and find me. It's your turn, I reckon, since I've spent so much of my life chasing you. If you don't think you can do it, if you don't want to be with me, then that's fine. It really is. But if that's the case, please don't come. We've already said goodbye once. We'll just leave it there, where it ended._

_I'll put in some directions for you to get here, if you do decide to come. You can't call me because I don't have a phone out here. Me without a phone, imagine that. But it's true. And I quite like it really._

_So there you have it. I'll be waiting. _

_Love, _

_Vince Noir.'_

...

Three months of nothing and then, finally, the letter. It had been beautifully written. The handwriting was messy but there wasn't a single spelling mistake. It seemed that Vince Noir had remembered that he really could spell after all. Or perhaps he'd finally learnt.

Howard had been sick with terror as he'd opened it, sick with nerves as he read it, sick with relief when he'd gone back and re-read the part where Vince said he loved him. He'd packed his suitcase then and there and had set off the next day, after he'd sorted out a few important things first.

He smiled gently as he looked at the other items in his pack, careful to make sure that none of the other passengers on the bus saw him do so. His smile had only gotten worse with age and he didn't want to scare anyone.

Two small pouches, one book, one lunch box, one map...

One more hour and he'd arrive at Bouzigues and from there, according to Vince's directions, it was a fifteen minute walk to Chateau Noir. He wasn't entirely sure what he would discover when he got there. He hoped Vince would be home and that he hadn't changed his mind.

He really hoped he hadn't changed his mind. Because Howard had finally made his up and he was determined to finally get things right.

This had to work...

It was a Tuesday after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**The sort of last chapter. One last little bit to go.**

* * *

It was Tuesday.

It should have just been another ordinary day, well, as ordinary as Vince's days were, but he'd woken up nervous and he knew why. If Howard was going to come, (arrive, easy) it would be today. He'd sent the letter a week ago but he hadn't been nervous before now.

Tuesdays, as far as Vince was concerned, were magic.

They always had been and he wanted them to be so forever. If it was going to happen it would be today.

He took a deep breath and stepped outside, blinking in the sun. Once he'd thought of the country-side as boring and, to be fair, Howard had done his best to make it as mind numbing and unattractive as possible, but this place was different. The light was different. The air was different. Maybe it was because it was his. Soon he hoped it wouldn't be _just_ his. A place to finally call their own.

It _was_ a bit quiet though.

...

"Vince? Vince! Vince! Vince?"

"Wha?" Vince looked up from his work as the huge brambly creature stumbled out of the bushes and onto the long drive. For a second he thought it was some sort of French yeti but after a moment he recognised that the gait, the voice and the lumpy suitcase the creature was dragging, were all achingly familiar.

"Howard?"

"Vince!"

"Howard!"

Vince sped off, upsetting his paints but not minding in the slightest. The driveway was hard packed dirt and his 'sensible' chelsea boots, brought up small puffs of dust as he ran as fast as he could. His lungs burned and his hair whipped around his face but he didn't care. Hair wasn't as important as Howard.

He could see the other man running toward him. Well, ambling awkwardly toward him in any case, and he started to laugh. They didn't so much embrace when they met as collide, but even with the wind knocked out of him, Vince couldn't stop the laughter bubbling out of him. Until...

"Ow! Ow! Gah, Howard! What are you covered in you great lummox?"

"I lost the path and my map was all wrong and I thought I'd never find you!"

Vince took a step back and brushed the twigs and brambles from his clothes before taking a good look at his friend. Howard looked a bit thin, and a bit tired and Vince felt a little bad that his friend had suffered during their absence. He did look sexy though. All rugged and wild. The tears would have to go.

"Oh, Howard. What am I going to do with you?"

...

Howard just stared. He knew he should say something. It was his turn and Vince was smiling up at him with such reminiscent affection that his heart ached. He needed to get this right, say this right, else he might lose Vince for good.

"What's that on your head?"

Wrong! That was wrong. Howard worried that he might have completely blown his chance. He should just leave now. Vince would probably... start laughing?

"It's my hair, ain't it?"

"Yeah, sorry."

Vince brought his hand up to ruffle his feathered locks and Howard admired the effect. He'd seen Vince with dozens of different hair styles and colours but this was something else. There were a few highlights but it mostly seemed to be his natural colour. It wasn't overly styled or straightened and in the breeze it blew about his face. His hands were covered in paint, as were his black skinny jeans and his vibrantly coloured t-shirt, although it was hard to tell with the t-shirt, the paint splatters looked rather fashionable. Or maybe that was just Vince.

He was so beautiful and looked so utterly perfect in this setting that Howard suddenly wondered how he could ever have existed anywhere else, especially places like Leeds and Dalston.

He realised with a jolt that he was desperate to touch his friend. He wanted to hold him close, stroke his hair, entwine their fingers the way they had used to do. But there were things to be done. He'd got it a bit wrong first time, but he needed to let Vince know that he was sorry, that he did in fact...

"Is there... that is," he gulped and looked down at his boots. "Can I come inside, Vince?"

There was no response, not in words anyway, but Howard felt Vince's hand creep into his, slender but strong fingers holding on tight, and when they gave a little tug he followed Vince up the long path to the house.

"Vince-" he gasped as he took in his first clear view of Chateau Noir. "Is this really your house?"

It was beautiful. Like a forgotten dolls house or something from a fairy story. The vines that climbed the walls were a deep green and the frames of the windows peeking out between the leaves were painted a delicate yellow. The door was pale blue and as Vince pushed it open with little ceremony Howard noticed that someone had painted a strange little monkey skull where a key hole might otherwise have been.

"Yup, this is my house," Vince glanced over his shoulder as Howard, still holding his hand firmly as he all but dragged him through the front hallway.

"I've nearly painted the whole thing."

Howard barely had time to take in his surroundings before he found himself in a cozy kitchen and being pushed into a chair at a rustic looking table.

"I'll give you a proper tour later, if you want," Vince said, pottering around and still not looking directly at Howard.

"But I figured there's stuff we need to talk about and that you could probably do with a cuppa. Did you want something to eat?"

Howard shook his head, partly to answer Vince's question and partly to try and sort out the jumble that his thoughts had become.

"I'm fine, Vince. Tea would be lovely but I, um, I brought you something. Well, some things."

Pulling his pack onto his lap, Howard removed the box of sandwiches, opened the lid and pushed them across the table. Vince let out a small gasp before turning away to pour out the boiling water. He didn't look up until they were sat across from each other, each nursing a mug of sweetly scented herbal tea.

"Is that marmite in those?"

"It is."

"Wow."

Howard nodded. This wasn't going as well as he'd hoped.

"I haven't had marmite in months. You can't get it at the store in Bouzigues."

"Oh. If I'd known I would have brought a jar with me."

"That's alright."

They sipped their tea quietly, each examining the table until Vince finally looked up, his eyes so large and forlorn that Howard wondered whether he'd ever be able to fix things.

"Howard..."

"Yes, little man?"

"Can you... ask the question?"

Howard frowned. What question did Vince mean? The sandwiches were right there and Vince was eyeing them off hungrily but he wasn't touching them, unless...

"D'you want a sandwich, Vince?"

The grin that spread across Vince's face was so bright Howard worried he might be overwhelmed by it and he couldn't stop his own grin as he watched the smaller man tuck into the sandwiches with obvious delight.

He took the opportunity to take a closer look at the man he had gotten so used to seeing over the years that for a while he had barely seen him at all. He wasn't skinny anymore, like he'd been when they were kids, or round cheeked like he'd been in his late teens, or worryingly thin like he'd been for most of his twenties. He looked... grown up. If Howard had to describe him now he'd say Vince looked lean; slender but strong. He looked good.

While he was occupied with the sandwiches, Howard took the opportunity to take out the other items he had brought with him. The book came first, slightly battered but still in fairly good condition after fifteen years, followed by the two small pouches, one well known and one brand new.

Upon seeing them Vince's chewing slowed until he finally stopped eating altogether and swallowed noisily.

"Howard look-" he began but Howard cut him off.

"I'm sorry, Vince," he said softly and Vince nodded. Howard wondered if he knew what the apology was for.  
Vince pulled the book across the table and began to flick lovingly through the pages. It had been his copy of _Peter Pan_ before he had given it to Howard and he looked fondly at the pictures and old fashioned type set.

"I didn't read the book, Vince. I should have read the book. I should have done a lot of things but I didn't. I should have told you how much I love you. I should have told you every day and I should have acted like it too. So I'm sorry."

Vince nodded again, staring at the picture of Peter and Wendy hand in hand flying through the night sky. Howard took the small, silver thimble out of its pouch and began to turn it around and around with his fingers.

"I only read it after you left. I pulled it out, and the thimble. Haven't left the house without it since. And I got you this."

Vince looked up as the second pouch was pushed in his direction, taking it carefully and pulling out the trinket that was inside.

"It took me ages to track down an acorn cap button. Had to bribe Naboo into taking me to Shamansbury in the end. Was worth it though."

Howard decided it was probably time to stop talking so he let the silence stretch and watched as Vince examined the acorn cap reverently, as if it were a precious artifact. When Vince eventually spoke, it was in a whisper that had Howard leaning across the table to hear.

"So you know what this means, Howard? You know what you've given me?"

"Yes, Vince. Or at least, I think so."

Vince gave a melancholy smile but Howard wasn't about to let this moment get ruined.

"I think I've just given you a kiss. The first one I've ever given away freely. And I've given it to the only person I have ever, seriously considered wanting to give it to. And," he continued, doing to scariest thing in the world: making eye contact.

"And, I think I've just given you a token as well. I always thought that you'd given me a good luck charm, a token of our friendship. It was so much more but it was that too. And so is this. It's a token of my love for you, Vince. It's my gesture. It's... I love you."

The smile he got in reply wasn't the bright, mega watt smile, or the cheeky, suggestive smile, or the Vince Noir pure charm smile. It was something gentle, something that developed, like a realisation, as what Howard had said sunk in and was accepted in Vince's head.

"In that case," Vince whispered. "I think I'd better give you a gesture too."

And in an instant which seemed to stretch beyond time and space he had leaned across the table, closing the gap between them. It took Howard a moment to realise that he was actually kissing Vince again but as he began to relax into it he heard, and felt, Vince sigh happily and that was enough, more than enough for him to let go completely. He let his eyes close and when he brought his hand up to run his fingers through Vince's hair the contented moan from his best friend sent a jolt of electricity through his spine.

He smiled against Vince's lips before deepening the kiss further and the rest of the world seemed to fade.

...

And that was how it started.


	11. Chapter 11

**The epilogue and the end.**

**Thank you for reading and for the reviews. And now I'm off on holidays, so I'll be back with a new story (hopefully) in a month and a half.**

**Ta-ra.**

* * *

"Bunch up, Howard! Let me in quick! It's well cold here at nights."

Howard chuckled as he moved over in the large bed to let Vince in.

"Can't imagine how you've survived without central heating for three months."

"I know. I've gotten well rugged. But it's good to have my hot water bottle back."

Vince snuggled against Howard, making the larger man jump when two cold feet pressed up against his leg.

"Sorry, Howard."

"Not a worry, little man," Howard whispered in reply.

He moved his arm up and allow Vince to press more firmly into his side and they lay in companionable silence for several minutes before Vince spoke again.

"Hey, Howard? Do you think this is a bit weird?"

"Which bit?"

It was Vince's turn to chuckle this time.

"Good point, but I just feel like it shouldn't be this easy to repair a friendship. To get back into the whole double act. It certainly shouldn't be this easy to start a relationship with someone, surely?"

Howard thought for a moment before wrapping his arms tightly around Vince.

"I always thought it was amazing, and kind of strange, that we could be apart, for years sometimes, and then fall back into our friendship without a hiccup. I decided it was just another part of the Vince Noir magic."

"Vince Noir magic? I like that. Don't know if it's true though."

Howard looked down and saw uncertainty in his friend's blue eyes. Even three months of serious self-searching hadn't rid Vince entirely of his anxiety and lack of self belief but Howard was determined that with the two of them working together it could be done.

"You've worked your magic here, that's for sure. I've never seen such a beautiful house in all my life."

"Yeah," Vince grinned. "But you don't get out much do you, small eyes?"

"Stay at home man of action, that's me, sir."

"I reckon we're more like Lost Boys," Vince replied.

Howard nodded and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Vince's lips.

"Shall we stay lost here then?"

"Definitely. Welcome home, Howard."

...

And that was how it began... And that is where we end.


End file.
